


Identitates

by Clover_Rose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Apples, Christmas fic, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Michelle hates apples, Sick Peter Parker, Teen Romance, Thunder - Freeform, Whump, and so am i, but she still eats them, she’s weird like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 15:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16746298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clover_Rose/pseuds/Clover_Rose
Summary: "Give me your phone," she states, her tone cold.Peter, in response, makes no move to, well, move. "What?" he replies. "Why?"-Or, a story in which Peter is sick, so Michelle takes care of him. Dedicated to Brentinator.





	Identitates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brentinator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brentinator/gifts).



> So, this is just a little something I wrote last night. I was really bored and had absolutely nothing to do, so I went to a sickfic prompt blog and the first thing that came up was the line “You look like shit.” So, I went with it.
> 
> Also; this story is dedicated to Brentinator. She’s hosting a Secret Santa with someone named Glittercat on Fanfiction.Net, and I’m not her secret santa, but I really wanted to write something for her. So... I hope you like this, Susz.
> 
> Enjoy, everyone!

He makes it a second before she says something.

"You look like shit," she says, as soon as he sits down. They're in the cafeteria and, if it wasn't for knowing her so well, he wouldn't have known she said anything at all. The cafeteria's so loud, it feels like he's standing in the middle of a rainstorm. With thunder.

And, dear God, as much as he loves Thor, he hates thunder. Freaking hates it.

"Feel like it too," he retorts as he rests his head in his arms. He doesn't bother putting on his 'I'm fine' facade because, for one, he's too tired to actually try, and, for two, he knows Michelle wouldn't bring him to the nurse, even if he feels bad and looks like crap. She's not that kind of person. Or, at least, he doesn't think she is.

"Then why don't you go home?" she half-asks and half-laughs. It's not unkind or uncaring, though. If anything, she's just hiding her concern with her sassy remarks and snark.

"Don't wanna worry May," he chokes out. And, in a way, it's true. The last time he was sick was, if not during the spider-bite, then way before it. Plus, not only that, but today's her one day off; he can't go to her with this.

"Okay." Michelle nods, but stretches out the word slowly as she seems to understand. "And the school nurse?" she questions, confused, as she takes a bite of her apple. (God, she hates apples.)

"Can't help me," Peter supplies, as pain shines in his eyes. His stomach hurts like hell, and he's pretty sure the last time he had a headache this bad was when Flash gave him peanuts and an anaphylactic attack two months back. "I've got... spider DNA," he states.

If Michelle is surprised by this, she doesn't show it. "Okay," she demands. "And?"

"I-If I'm sick..." Peter expresses, "and they call an ambulance, I–I'll have to go to a h'spital," he says, as he stops to cough. "A-And the doctors... they..."

"They don't know," Michelle realizes, as she nods in recognition.

"Yeah," Peter agrees. "And, I mean, I know this is probably just a common cold or something, but..."

Michelle huffs. Then stares at him, before pulling one of her gloves off, and opening her hand, expectantly. "Give me your phone," she states, her tone cold.

Peter, although his nose is red and runny, and his stomach is aching like he's just been punched in the gut, makes no move to, well, move. "What?" he replies. "Why?"

"Do you wanna skip class or not?"

Sighing, Peter gives in and fishes his phone out of his pocket, before he pours it on the table. "Who're you gonna call?" he questions, quietly.

Michelle holds up her hand as she places the phone in her other one, having already dialled the number. "Hello?" she says, putting on her best 'adult' impression. "Yes, this is May Parker, calling to let you know that I'm pulling my nephew out of school this afternoon."

"Michelle!" Peter immediately hisses, as he makes a move to grab the phone. "Stop! You can't just—"

"Shut up!" she instantly says, before remembering to put on her facade. "Oh, no, sorry, Mary-Jane," she apologizes. "It's just that Peter's getting his wisdom teeth out right now, and there's this annoying kid in the waiting room..."

And, after that, Peter can't really remember much. He knows he closed his eyes at some point, and his senses are so overloaded he can literally hear his phone being given back to him as it's slidden across the table, but he doesn't know how much time has passed. Or, at least, he doesn't until Michelle taps him on the shoulder.

"Wake up, loser," she says, with a slight smile on her face. "We're going—"

"Shopping?" Peter perks up immediately.

Michelle's smile falters until it turns into an actual frown. "What? No!" she exclaims, once she realizes he's being serious. "We're going to my house. Now, hurry up, 'kay? I gotta call a cab."

 

 

 

 

The ride to Michelle's house is, as it turns out, a long one. She lives approximately half an hour away from the school, fifteen minutes away from Peter, and in a brownstone apartment. It's not exactly what he pictured, but, hey, he's not complaining.

"So this is my house," she explains, as she unlocks the front door and opens it up. "Kitchen's on the right, and living room's on the left. You can lie down on the couch."

Peter nods, as he slips his shoes off. "Okay, thanks."

Michelle smiles, although very slightly. "Don't mention it," she says, as she drops her backpack down to the ground, and begins to unzip it. "Now, I'm gonna get started on my English essay," she states. "But I really rather not get up again, so do you want anything? Like, to get changed into some PJs? Or, at least, something that's cleaner than jeans?"

Peter cocked an eyebrow at this. "Pajamas?" he asks, addled.

MJ nodded, though her nose was still stuck in a book. "Yeah," she confirmed, as her legs dangled off the side of the la-z-boy. "My brother, Jax, is kinda away at college right now, but he doesn't get back for like, another four or five hours. So, you want something of his to wear while you're relaxing, or what?"

"Mm, no," Peter says as he leans back against the throw pillows and wipes his nose. "I think I'm good. But, thanks anyway, MJ."

The last thing Peter sees before he falls asleep is MJ, lounging around on the la-z-boy, with her curls set around her shoulders, as she smiles back at him. "No problem, nerd."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that’s the end. I hope y’all liked it, and comments leave me smiling for like, an entire day or so, so make sure to leave some of those! :)
> 
> *blows kisses* Love ya!
> 
> ( Tumblr: https://creativity-queens-92.tumblr.com/ask )


End file.
